Traded
by Joy Booth
Summary: The trade deadline brings an unwelcome surprise.


"If you were getting traded, you would hear it from the GM not twitter!" He said, even though he knew that it was entirely possible that twitter was right. He couldn't have them worrying. A good captain led his team, and that was what he did, even as he wondered about his own future in the back of his mind.

As they ran the steps Ginny slowed down so he could catch up. She looked over at him, and he could tell she was searching for some reassurance, but he had none. His ass was on the line and he knew it. So, for once, he waved her off. She kept moving just like she always did.

After practice Al called Mike into his office. The good news was, he wouldn't be traded. The bad news was, he was going to be riding the bench most games. Mike tried to be happy about this development. It was all part of the game. There was always some young guy gunning for his spot and Duarte joining the team meant that Mike might make it another season if he was only playing a few innings a game. Still, he hated the idea of being so close to the action and yet not really being a part of it.

He headed back to the locker room still wondering how they managed to find room in the budget to keep him. Everyone seemed to be in good humor, so he figured no one is gong anywhere. Once he was in his street clothes, he went to tell Ginny the good news.

He was surprised to find the door to her little closet shut. He knocked but there is no answer. He thought she must be in the showers, but then he heard a shuffle.

"Good news," he called through the door. "Looks like you are going to have to put up with me for a bit longer Rookie, cause I'm not going anywhere."

Silence was his only answer.

"Look I know you were looking to trade me in for a newer model, so I will tell you that Duarte will be behind that plate most of the time, but that doesn't mean I won't be there to give you my grade A speeches," he tried again, starting to worry.

The door opened and there stood Ginny Baker looking utterly exhausted. "You might be here, but I won't be," she said quietly.

All at once his heart dropped to his stomach. Surely she couldn't mean what he thought, but the look in her eyes meant one thing. She was leaving.

"I'm going to the Phillies. Any advice on how to deal with the cold?" She asked, clearly trying to make light of the situation.

Mike didn't know what to say. She was looking at him. Waiting for something. For him to make a lewd joke, but there was nothing funny about what was happening. He shook himself, a good captain did what was best for his team, so he plastered on a smile and did what he did best.

"You could always grow a beard," he joked. She smirked, appreciated that he had made the effort.

"I don't know if I can pull it off," she shrugged.

"Not many can. I attribute my success to my rugged good looks and excellent bone structure."

"I guess I will just have to learn to deal with the cold..."

"What can I do?" He asked seriously.

"Amelia's dealing with everything. I really just want to get out of here, get a drink, maybe hit the ocean one last time."

"Well then, Ginny Baker, you are in luck. I happen to know an awesome little bar on the beach."

Half an hour later they pulled into his drive way.

"Lawson, this looks like someone's house," she said, clearly confused.

"That's because it is. It's my house…"

"You said we were going to a bar."

"Yeah, my house has a bar, keep up Baker, or we're going to miss sunset."

He grabbed two beers as he walked through the house. Ginny followed him out the back door and down the steps to his own little stretch of beach.

"So this is how you always manage to score with the ladies," she teased, sinking into the sand and taking off her shoes and socks.

"It doesn't hurt," he shrugged, handing her a beer before he cracked his own.

They sat watching the sun drift below the horizon, until they were completely engulfed in darkness.

"I don't want to go," she whispered.

"I know, I don't want you to either."

"I was just getting settled. I thought I had finally done it…"

"You did. You're here. They didn't send you back down. You got traded. It happens."

"I'm here," she said, almost as if she was reassuring herself. "I made it?"

He could here the question in her voice. "You made it, Rookie. You got this."

"But I won't have you."

He knew what she was thinking. He was thinking pretty much the same thing. Since she had been called up they had trained together, practiced together, watched game tapes together and started their nightly phone ritual. He would miss her.

"Funny thing about phones these days though. I heard you can actually call people all the way in Philly," he joked. It wasn't ideal, but it was something.

"Is that so, old man? And here I was thinking you would be happy to be rid of me," she said it as a joke, but he could hear the sadness in her voice.

He reached out for her hand. "Ginny Baker, I think I would miss you ever if we had never met," he said, trying to convey all the feelings he shouldn't have through the darkness. She looked at him for a long moment before she pulled away.

"So… we'll talk, maybe we can watch game tapes over the phone and you can give me tips," she said.

"As long as you're not playing my Padres."

"Of course."

"And maybe after the seasons over you can come stay with me and defrost," he said it as a joke, but she could hear the hope build it.

"Of course, someone's got to keep you in shape in the off season."


End file.
